


Intended Key (For ZK Drabble December Day 9: "Lock and Key")

by ZutaraRightsActivist



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZutaraRightsActivist/pseuds/ZutaraRightsActivist
Summary: Zuko finds a useless trinket that he intends to protect.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Kudos: 23
Collections: ZK Drabble December 2020





	Intended Key (For ZK Drabble December Day 9: "Lock and Key")

Zuko hadn’t been interested in matters of delicacy before his banishment and shame, and he certainly wasn’t interested in them now.

Yet when he picks up the water tribe girl’s lost necklace, he is immediately aware of its fragility. The stone is smooth and glossy, hard but breakable. It reflects the orange sunset back at the scarred firebender’s similarly glossy, compacted flesh. The prince considers the humble piece of jewelry for a moment, holding it in his palm gently, its unraveled ribbon falling loosely on his palms. 

This is it. This pebble was his key.

He remembers the waterbender’s eyes, blue and clear as the turtleduck pond in the palace gardens. He recalls the huddle of her tribe folk as he demanded they hand over the Avatar, the familial bond between all of them apparent even in their fear. Fear was abundant within the halls of the Fire Nation palace, but that bond was something he hadn’t felt since his mother had disappeared so many years earlier. 

Zuko tenderly ties the pendant to his wrist. 

“What did you find, Nephew?” Zuko hears his uncle’s drawling voice behind him. He doesn’t respond immediately, instead choosing to glare into the fading sunlight. 

“My key to returning home,” he finally replies, his voice a wistful rasp that he doesn’t aim at the old General. He turns around quickly, tucking the carved stone into his sleeve to try to conceal it from his uncle. 

“That doesn’t look like a key to me,” Iroh responds with his usual sagely tone. Zuko digs his nails into his palms as he wordlessly pushes past the old man. 

“Well it’s the only hope I have,” he finally growls as he re-boards his small Fire Nation ship, motioning for his crew to begin the disembarking process. 

The dread that accompanies the statement crashes across him as if he had fallen overboard. He sinks into the feeling like the vast ocean that surrounds him. The other men mostly avoid him as he stomps on the cold metal of the ship’s deck toward the cabin. 

The heavy door slams behind him as he slinks into his quarters. In the dim firelight, he reaches into his sleeve and pulls out the engraved stone, running his thumb over the crevices of the stylized wave design.

That water girl could be the key to everything he had wanted for so long. This trinket, and that girl, could be the key to regaining his honor.

His fingers move to the impromptu knot he had wrapped around his wrist. A worry that the tie would continue to unravel, causing him to lose the humble treasure he had claimed crosses over him. He pulls at the knot, loosening the necklace, holding the well-worn ribbon in his hand once again. The last thing he needed was a curious deckhand finding the piece and foolishly trying to sell it for a few copper pieces at port.

He decides then that he will only wear it when he is awake, always secured to his wrist. This valueless trinket was now the most important item in the four nations.

Valueless. Not meaningless.

Zuko furrows his brows, his usual scowl deepening as he studies the carving. He wasn’t interested in stealing from peasants. He would make sure this necklace made it back to its owner. It may have reminded her of her home just as much as it reminded him of his. Perhaps this time she would understand his plight. He would have to try to make her understand. 

For now, as the burdens of the day settle into his bones, he puts his gleaming hope in an ornate metal box, using a lightness of hand that would never be believed by his crewmen. He takes one last look at the iridescent stone, images of the water girl dancing in its reflections, before closing the small chest and securing the lock with its intended key. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
